I went to lots of auctions in England, ranging from Sotheby's to local evening auctions in the village hall.
At our first auction in Shropshire Ron made the mistake of going to buy some cups of tea. In his absence I bid on a very (VERY) large pine cupboard with panelled doors, it was a real bargain and I was even more chuffed to discover that I had bought the other matching cupboards that completely filled one side of the hall. When he returned with the drinks he thought I was joking when I proudly waved an arm at the row of cupboards. His disbelief turned to horror as it sank in and we discovered the cost of getting them home. In the end they fitted the cottage as if they were bespoke. It didn't stop me though, there is an adrenaline rush when you are bidding and eventually I learned to leave bids and walk away, or sit on my hands!
So I was very excited to discover that my trip to Clermont yesterday coincided with an auction. It meant getting up at the crack of dawn as viewing was only for one hour just before the sale began. In the even the doors opened late and my anxiety about not wasting a second was completely misplaced.
When the auction began I wondered if I had wandered into a Ros Noble show by accident. The auctioneer had the ability to ad lib at length, create surreal stories, mostly about the assembled buyers, who seemed to welcome being insulted. He dealt with talkers and fidgeters by knocking items down to them, one chatty dealer became the owner of a truly awful painting because he wouldn't keep quiet. After the first hour my ribs were aching from the laughter but only a couple of lots had been sold.
I wish I could have recorded it, I'm sure they could sell tickets, but I did wonder if it was ever going to end.
It got worse, items that no-one wanted were paraded round the room for ages, the auctioneer refusing to move on until someone placed a bid.By lunchtime very little had been sold and of course lunch took two hours.
Most of it was very much like an English auction apart from the point where they asked for a signed cheque as soon as you bought something (oh yes!).
A sale that would I expected to take a couple of hours took all day! No time for the planned trip to the sales before collecting Georgette from the hospital. I did find one bargain at lunch time though...............................
and Phoebe has spent a very happy afternoon testing it in front of the stove.
At our first auction in Shropshire Ron made the mistake of going to buy some cups of tea. In his absence I bid on a very (VERY) large pine cupboard with panelled doors, it was a real bargain and I was even more chuffed to discover that I had bought the other matching cupboards that completely filled one side of the hall. When he returned with the drinks he thought I was joking when I proudly waved an arm at the row of cupboards. His disbelief turned to horror as it sank in and we discovered the cost of getting them home. In the end they fitted the cottage as if they were bespoke. It didn't stop me though, there is an adrenaline rush when you are bidding and eventually I learned to leave bids and walk away, or sit on my hands!
So I was very excited to discover that my trip to Clermont yesterday coincided with an auction. It meant getting up at the crack of dawn as viewing was only for one hour just before the sale began. In the even the doors opened late and my anxiety about not wasting a second was completely misplaced.
When the auction began I wondered if I had wandered into a Ros Noble show by accident. The auctioneer had the ability to ad lib at length, create surreal stories, mostly about the assembled buyers, who seemed to welcome being insulted. He dealt with talkers and fidgeters by knocking items down to them, one chatty dealer became the owner of a truly awful painting because he wouldn't keep quiet. After the first hour my ribs were aching from the laughter but only a couple of lots had been sold.
It got worse, items that no-one wanted were paraded round the room for ages, the auctioneer refusing to move on until someone placed a bid.By lunchtime very little had been sold and of course lunch took two hours.
Most of it was very much like an English auction apart from the point where they asked for a signed cheque as soon as you bought something (oh yes!).
How spoilt is Phoebe then? I would like to change places with her. By the fire on a cold winters day is the best place to be.
ReplyDeleteWe are sweltering in the heatwave over this side, but I do like it.
LuvL